


Mamma

by prinsessa_mouse



Series: Living in Uggr [5]
Category: Metalocalypse (Cartoon)
Genre: Character Study, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Drug Addiction, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Letters, M/M, Mother's point of view, Mother-Son Relationship, Phone Calls, Pre-Dethklok, Serveta finally acts like a mom, Support Systems, Touring, mother's guilt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-01
Updated: 2020-12-01
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:40:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27810019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prinsessa_mouse/pseuds/prinsessa_mouse
Summary: Serveta finally becomes the parent Skwisgaar needs when she learns her son is in an abusive relationship.
Relationships: Magnus Hammersmith/Skwisgaar Skwigelf
Series: Living in Uggr [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2021879
Comments: 2
Kudos: 11





	Mamma

Serveta wouldn’t consider it strange for her only son to call once a month. They agreed when he left for America, he had to call her to check in every month. If he moved, he called to give her an update of where he was staying. The agreement worked for them. He willingly shared tour and band information with her too. When he took permanent residence in Tampa that put her at ease. She learned about the roommate, she approved of him living in a decent house from a photograph he sent her when he started writing her letters.

That’s when she grew suspicious. Skwisgaar called her and sent parcels on special occasions. He never wrote to her, the letters started after his nineteenth birthday. He called every two weeks. He sent her two to three letters a month. He told her about a friend, a relationship, and all the tours he got involved in. When she asked about the topics in the letters he avoided talking about the friend and tour offers. He started to sound nervous or annoyed when she asked too many questions.

It took her months to get her son to talk about the relationship. By then she saved enough money to visit him for a few days. She didn’t care about her son having a boyfriend, she cared most about his wellbeing.

Skwisgaar grew up being an anxious child and she blamed herself for making him that way. He looked at her the same way he did as a toddler. His big blue eyes were full of fear and distress, they glistened due to welling tears. She expected him to whimper ‘ _mamma_ ’ and run to her for a hug. Instead, Magnus stayed so close to her son he couldn’t reach out for her. When they finally got time alone Skwisgaar’s defenses went up. He got upset at the airport, he pulled her into a hug. The last time he willingly hugged her, he was twelve. She managed to force a hug out of him when he left for America.

The hug he trapped her in mirrored him as a child. He cried and held her tight. He told her in English that he loved her and missed home. She heard her baby calling for her to protect him from the monsters. She held him, spoke to him in Swedish and smoothed out his blonde hair. She told him to call day or night, write if that helped, or tell her if he needed to come home, she’d pay for the ticket.

Serveta boarded the plane with a horrible pain racking her body. That pain returned when her son turned twenty and told her he got married. If she didn’t feel such guilt from how she raised Skwisgaar, she would’ve torn up the photo he sent her of his wedding day.

His calls became more frequent. He sometimes spoke in Swedish only to abruptly switch to English, other times he spoke in English. She heard the way his voice increased and decreased in volume. Magnus must listen to his calls. She chose to speak in Swedish for her son’s sake.

She apologized for steering him towards someone like Magnus. She confessed her guilt for making him grow up to fast and thinking it was acceptable for drunk adults to rely on him to take care of them.

One day she opened a letter to find a disturbing Polaroid accompanying it. She cried, she choked back tears seeing her baby covered in bruises. The letter composed on hotel stationary, he sent it while on tour. He told her how scared he was to go home. He mentioned Magnus felt terrible and promised it would never happen again. The letter talked about her son-in-law’s recent addiction to heroin and the abuse never happened before the drugs.

Later, he denied sending the letter and pleaded with her not to bring it up again. He was an adult now; she had no authority over him. She got stuck trusting his judgement. He told her every phone call that he loved her. She worried that would be the last time they talked. The phone ringing signified dread.

What if the call was about her son?

Could she hold it together enough to say she knew about the abuse?

The worst thought haunting her became how to get her baby home to Sweden if something happened to him.

She slept next to the phone. She stayed home as much as possible. The few times she missed a call she paced around the small house until she heard Skwisgaar’s voice on the other end of the line. She got an answering machine that allowed her son to pour out his fears and frustrations. She called him back and reassured him that mamma was there for him.

His calls slowed down for a bit when he got a part time job with his friend. He seemed happier. He told her about a new metal band in the works. He explained that all the guys were friends and Magnus behaved around them.

She relaxed.

Skwisgaar finally had stability.

He still called her once a week. He loved his job, the band planned to record a demo, and Magnus got off heroin for a week. He told her that their marriage improved. The drugs were just a test of their relationship.

Serveta knew those weren’t her son’s words. Magnus controlled everything. Skwisgaar grew up watching her go through abusive relationships and he normalized it. Her son’s life was in danger. This moment of bliss would melt back into the hell he got trapped in.

The calls once a week turned into every other day. Sometimes he begged her to tell him stories about her childhood, they talked about his grandfather’s health, and memories of the grandmother he never knew. He asked her to describe the Northern lights or the changes to the small town they lived near. Those calls were tearful on both sides. She implored him to move out and stay with friends. He told her he couldn’t abandon his husband. His vows were binding, his green card in danger if he went to the police. She heard brainwashed theories pouring from her intelligent son’s mouth and she wanted to scream at him. She suggested he talk to a trusted friend and have them explain his green card to him. He ignored her requests, he trusted Magnus, why would he lie?

Eventually, she stopped fighting him. He got his strong-willed nature from his grandfather and she respected him enough to support him. She did the best any mother could in this situation. She couldn’t save someone not willing to save themselves. The bitter irony being he spent his whole life trying to save her.

Serveta got an idea.

A simple idea that gave Skwisgaar support when the abuse got worse.

She asked him to give her a sign. Something to hint he was in a safe place to talk without Magnus standing by him. She started calling him instead of waiting when days passed. Her mother’s intuition kicked in. Maybe he didn’t exactly give her the sign they agreed upon, but he teetered on the edge of the topic cautiously.

Some nights, he called crying. A child needing his mother’s comfort. She laid down in bed, she reminded him of Sweden and summers with his grandfather, special trips to Stockholm and all his favorite stories about mythical creatures.

Tonight, he called her rambling a mile a minute. He could hardly catch his breath. In the background she heard two unfamiliar voices. She sat up in bed to ready herself. He spoke in a mash of English and Swedish. His sporadic breathing along with the sobs made him incoherent.

“Come sit down,” one voice said.

The other voice higher pitched and sweet spoke with a lot of patience, “Skwis, can I have the phone for a second?”

Skwisgaar handed the phone over to Pickles and took a seat on the couch next to Nathan. His shaking body ached as he got reclined. He understood Pickles took the phone to give him a few minutes to collect himself. He got a bit worked up from his anxiety attack and demanding to call his mom.

“Hi, ‘m Pickles. I’m in a band with yer son. He’s in a safe place, we got a spare bedroom fer him,” the redhead explained. He didn’t elude to the situation; it wasn’t his place to share what he saw. He was there to keep Skwisgaar safe if he wanted to accept the offer.

Serveta sighed, “That is alls I want. when he is readies can he call me backs?”

“Yeh, of course,” Pickles replied.

Skwisgaar managed to get himself calm enough to put his hand out for the phone. He wanted to at least tell her goodnight; he woke her up. Pickles smiled at him and handed the phone over. The blonde carefully put the receiver to his ear, avoiding the aching bruise on one side of his face. “Jag älskar dig mamma,” he sniffled.

“Jag älskar dig också ängel,” Serveta said tenderly.

When the line went dead, she slumped back against the headboard of her bed. While she felt ecstatic about Skwisgaar being in a safe place, she worried he would go home. She knew from experience how men waxing poetic promises lured their victims back in. They vowed to change and within a week they turned back into monsters.

She prayed Skwisgaar wouldn’t believe anything Magnus promised him. Sadly, she knew he’d go back a few times before his blindness to the abuse cleared.

She’d be there though.

Caught up in the cycle with him until he got brave enough to break it and go his own way.

**Author's Note:**

> I got nerve writing, worrying about my grandma while I waited on hold for my turn to talk to her.  
> So this came into existence. Let's just say before Skwisgaar gets famous and rich she had a moment of mothering him. Better late then never right? It's essentially a character study of a mother's views into her child's life and her worries.


End file.
